


Practice Makes Perfect

by khaleesivero



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Albus is in love with Scorpius, Astoria is alive, Draco Malfoy is a puppy for Astoria, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter is oblivious, I fixed Scorbus for you, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Practice Kissing, Scorbus, Scorpius is oblivious, You're Welcome, birthday present fic, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 19:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12327624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khaleesivero/pseuds/khaleesivero
Summary: ...in which Scorpius asks his best friend Albus to help him out in new and unexpected ways. Scorpius is a nerd ("I HATE HOMEWORK?!"), Albus is a helpless puppy, the grownups are clueless and there's a lot of snogging.Birthday pic for my lovely friend who took me to see Cursed Child - I fixed our ship for her.





	Practice Makes Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mylittlemindpalace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylittlemindpalace/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic I wrote for the wonderful friend who took me to see Cursed Child; we couldn't stand the fact that there wouldn't be a romantic ending for the two - obviously meant-to-be - teen protagonists. So there you go, hon, I fixed that problem - and a few other ones, like happy!Draco Malfoy.  
> It's also my first Cursed Child fanfic, hope you like it!

„Do you think I should wear robes or Muggle clothes?“ Scorpius wondered aloud as he thoughtfully gazed up at the – for English standards practically cloud-free – summer sky.  
Albus didn’t seem to be as taken by the conversation as he, as his best friend, ought to have been; in fact, he was splashing around in the Potters’ swimming pond, and a few drops hit Scorpius’ legs, which he met with a rather undignified squeal. “Watch it, Albus!”

His best friend grinned. Even though the water only reached up to his waist, he was completely wet, his dark hair plastered to his face, his cheeks flushed from the coolness of the liquid. “Oh come on, Scorp, it’s perfect in here. Why don’t you come in, and we can discuss your fashion choices later?”

Scorpius frowned. “Why do I feel like you’re not taking me seriously?” He made no comment about the possibility of swimming. He didn’t care for large bodies of water very much, and furthermore, he might catch sunburn, leaving him with a lobster-like complexion that would elicit nothing but laughter from Rose Weasley-Granger. He preferred staying in the shadow under the tree, where he was currently lounging, thank you very much.

Scorpius Malfoy was the kind of person who was not too fond of what other people would have considered to be „fine weather“. Everything that was, in his opinion, worthwhile doing could be completed perfectly well on a rainy day – reading, studying, debating interesting issues, eating, sleeping, taking brisk walks to clear one’s head. Sunshine, thus, was – according to him, anyway – completely overrated.

Al shook his head, trying to get strands of rebellious, soaked hair out of his eyes. “Because I’m not. Look, Scorpius, you’re blowing this out of proportion. The Granger-Weasleys are coming over for dinner. Ron and Dad will probably burn the barbequed meat, Mum will make sugar-free dessert, and Hermione will spike it with sugared cream. Teddy will make jokes since his girlfriend isn’t coming, James will be the idiot that he likes to be, Hugo will laugh at them both, and Rose will sit there, simply wishing for it to be over. Nothing special.”

Scorpius pondered that for a moment. “And yet you have said nothing about their expected wardrobe,” he insisted, leading his best friend back to the important matter at hand.

Albus sighed with exasperation. “Fine. They’ll all be clad in shorts and t-shirts, at least the Potters will. It’s too hot for robes. Might I suggest you wear those dark grey shorts of yours and the blue shirt? It brings out the colour in your eyes.” He didn’t stop to wait for Scorpius’ reactions, but simply sank into the pond again until he was entirely underwater. 

The blond wizard nodded to himself. Albus’ suggestions were usually trustworthy, if one could get him to give one. The advice sounded solid. He would accept it.

Scorpius had been staying with the Potters for a few days now. His parents had always been quite strict about visiting his friend during the summer – they would normally only allow him to floo in for the day. But this summer was different, as his mother had reminded his father on numerous occasions. 

“Scorpius is sixteen now,” Astoria had said to her husband one night when Scorpius was walking past their bedroom by chance. “He’ll finish school next year. And then he’ll need to look into jobs or further education. I want him to have a great last summer.” She raised her hand to silence Draco, who had wanted to interrupt her. “I know, you think a family holiday is plenty of excitement for him. And I agree, it is wonderful that we get to go to South America with our son. But Draco, love, Albus Potter is his best friend. We should allow Scorpius to stay with the Potters, and we should invite Albus to stay with us. I know you and Harry get along all right – more so than you care to admit. I’d love to properly meet Ginny, have them over for tea when they drop Albus off. Could you do that for me?”

Scorpius did not need to stick around to hear his father agree with his mother. Draco Malfoy might have tried to appear like a strict, cold man in public, but there was nothing he would ever deny his wife.

The dropping-off had been nice enough. Albus and Scorpius, having not seen each other for almost three weeks during which the Malfoys had travelled South America (Scorpius had hated the sun but loved the magical sights they had visited, so his overall assessment of the holiday had been a B-), immediately disappeared into Al’s room while their mothers had enjoyed a cup of tea and their fathers had talked about Quidditch. However, the whole thing had been cut short as Albus’ father had been called away to some magical mishap at the Ministry, so the Malfoys had kissed their son goodbye (even Malfoy Senior had overcome his disgust for public display of affections when confronted with the fact that he wouldn’t see his son for a whole two weeks) and the Potters had promised to definitely make more time when the Malfoys came round to pick their son up.

So here Scorpius was now, in the Potters’ spacious garden, watching his best friend swim, thinking about what to wear for the night’s barbecue.

Albus resurfaced, panting, and made his way out of the pond. Scorpius had to admit that his friend looked decent in swimwear – even though he was not as gifted a Seeker or as talented a chaser as his parents, he had, a few years ago, learned to channel some of his teenage angst into becoming a decent Beater. The fact that he had been training with the Slytherin team for the last two years was visible in his muscular arms and sculpted stomach, and the fact that he was now successfully playing for his house had done a lot of good to both his reputation at Hogwarts and his relationship with his father. Sure, he was still the Potter boy in Slytherin who was joined at the hip with the nerdy Malfoy, but he hardly received any weird looks these days.

Not that Scorpius minded only having one friend. But now, thanks to being Albus’ best friend, other people had stopped giving him a hard time. It made his time at Hogwarts nicer.

So anyway, yes, Albus in swimwear, wet.

Back to the point, Scorpius told himself.

“Don’t come near me,” the blond Slytherin warned his best friend, who was towelling himself off, splashing water everywhere. “I really don’t appreciate getting wet. It might make my hair all curly and strange.”

Albus grinned evilly and extended his arms. “Don’t you know that hugging is our thing, Scorp?” he asked in mock innocence, approaching Scorpius, who tried to scramble to his feet in terror. “Don’t, Albus, I’m warning you, I’ll- aaaah!”

Albus had ignored the warning and thrown himself at Scorpius, and together they had crashed to the ground in a tangle of both wet and dry limbs. Scorpius found himself pinned under his very wet best friend, who was laughing wholeheartedly.

“You think this is funny, Potter?” He snarled, trying his best to imitate his father, but it only made Albus laugh more. “Very much so,” he said, giggling as Scorpius struggled under him. Merlin, that Potter boy was heavy!

Albus was so close that Scorpius was able to count all the droplets of water still clinging to his eyelashes. His best friend stopped his silly laughing, and both boys were quiet, breathing heavily. The blond boy watched his best friend watching him silently for a few seconds. It was strange to suddenly be in such close physical proximity with one another – Scorpius found that he wasn’t quite able to breathe normally.

Of course, this likely had to do with the fact that Albus was crushing him, what else?

He shook his head slightly. “Would you care to get OFF before I suffocate, you silly creature?”

Albus blinked a few times. “Er, sure,” he said, quickly and clumsily trying to regain his footing before picking up his towel and continuing to dry himself off. His face was flushed, possibly still from his swim in the cool pond.

Scorpius dragged a hand through his hair, trying to get it back in order, and cleared his throat. “So, er… Blue shirt, you said?”

“Yup,” Albus answered quietly, still busy wrapping a towel around his hips. Having done so, he looked back at Scorpius. “I’ll take a quick shower before dinner. Will you be okay changing alone, or do you need me to help you?” A smirk was back on his face, and the blond rolled his eyes. “I think I’ll manage, thank you.”

Al shrugged. “Good to know – I’ll remind you next time they come over. Right, see you in a bit.” He trudged off, his shorts still dripping.

Scorpius sat quietly for a few seconds, then yelled after him, “What do you mean, next time? When will there be a next time?!” And he got up to briskly stroll after his best friend.

…

It is very unpleasant to be in love with one’s best friend. But it is downright torturous to stand by and watch said best friend fall for someone else and have them demand your help in conquering their crush’s heart.

Albus Severus Potter knew that only too well.

He couldn’t recall the precise moment in which Scorpius Malfoy had stopped being “only” his friend and began being “more” than a friend to him. Albus thought that the phrase “just friends” was a nasty insult to all the marvellous friendships in this world, like the one between his father and his uncle Ron, or the one between his aunt Hermione and Hagrid, the Keeper of the Grounds at Hogwarts, or the one between his mother and Auntie Luna (who wasn’t really his aunt). There was no such thing as “just friends”. Friends were people you’d take an Unforgivable Curse for. And to him, Scorpius was such a friend.

However, his feelings towards Scorpius had at some point changed from “I really want to stay up all night talking to you” to “I really want to stay up all night talking to you and then have you fall asleep in my arms as I softly kiss you goodnight”. It had been terribly embarrassing at first, but he had quickly learned to hide it. Now he spent his days trying not to laugh too loudly at Scorpius’ terrible jokes because he thought him to be so adorable, tearing his eyes away from him in class when he’d rather watch his elegant hand let a quill dance across parchment, doing his best to keep his features in check whenever he saw his best friend again after the holidays.

Albus didn’t expect his feelings to lead to anything; he had no illusions. Scorpius was in love with his cousin Rose, and even though his prospects of ending up in a happy relationship with her were about as low as Al’s own of dating his best friend, Scorpius was constantly and relentlessly plotting to win her heart. It was sometimes amusing how infinitely optimistic the blond was regarding his crush, but it was also deeply hurtful to Albus because he knew that Scorpius would never see him that way.

Still, he had to appreciate what he had; his best friend had arrived three days ago and would stay with him for another ten. Even if he could not kiss him, Albus loved Scorpius’ company, and he had missed him terribly while he’d been away. So it was totally worth having him here, even with all the chin-wagging about Rose. That he was currently sitting between Scorpius, who was trying to get Rose’s attention, and his aunt Hermione, who kept trying to get him to tell her what he planned on doing after he’d finished Hogwarts, was still less then ideal.

“There are many possibilities for a talented young wizard like yourself,” she said, handing the plate with grilled vegetables to her husband, who passed it on without helping himself to any. “Rose is currently looking into further education. Isn’t that true, Rose?”

Rose nodded briskly; it was always curious to see how much she was like her mother in her determination – Hugo was much more like his father. “I am thinking about studying Potions more thoroughly,” she said, cutting her meat, which was, as Albus had predicted, a bit on the burnt side. “I should like to work as a Healer once I’ve finished my education.”

Scorpius saw his chance at small talk and eagerly took it. “That’s so interesting!” he enthused, which only got him a stern look from Rose. 

“Quite,” she said before turning back to her food, ignoring the Malfoy boy once more.  
Albus smiled at his plate and helped himself to more salad. He thought that Scorpius was adorable, even when he was being absolutely daft.

Laughter erupted at the other side of the table as Teddy seemingly recounted a hilarious story to his quasi-cousin James, who practically threw himself onto the table, roaring, knocking over two goblets in the process.

“Jamie, watch it!” his mother cautioned, cleaning up the mess with a flick of her wand, but James hadn’t realised he’d done anything wrong, and merely continued to gasp for air and giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Albus asked, raising his eyebrows at his brother. James might have been an adult in the eyes of the law, but he was still the same idiot he’d been when he was thirteen. Like his mother before him, he’d found his calling in playing Quidditch, and he was currently trying to make the national team. While he lived alone now, he was a frequent guest at the Potter house, especially when he needed help with ironing spells or wanted a decent, home-cooked meal.

James’ hazel eyes blazed with mischief. “Nothing that’s appropriate for your minor’s ears, oh brother dear,” he fluted, winking at him. “I’ll tell you in October.”

Albus rolled his eyes. His brother’s newest, and by newest he meant two-year-old, way of trying to upset him was to tell him that he wasn’t of age yet while he, James, was. Albus didn’t really mind – the joke had only got very old very quickly.

His dad caught his gaze and smiled at him. Harry Potter might not have been an easy dad to have, what with all the fame, but at least he understood perfectly that his eldest son was a bit of a dick.

Albus looked back at his aunt and realised that he hadn’t answered her question yet. “Actually, I’m thinking about taking a gap year, you know, to travel a bit. See the world. Find myself.” He had thought about this issues quite a bit during the past few weeks and the idea was really growing on him. He didn’t have any definite plans for his future, and if he wanted to take a break and really think about what to do with his life, the timing was ideal.

“What?!” That was Scorpius next to him. Albus looked over at him to find his best friend staring at him, his eyes widened in shock. “You can’t go away, Al, whatever am I going to do without you?” He looked honestly distressed, and Albus was touched by the fact that the prospect of his absence caused Scorpius serious anxiety.

“Ohhh, how cute!” James purred. “Nerd love, nerd love!”

Albus felt his face go hot against his will, but Teddy saved him. “Shut up, James,” he said loudly, drawing the attention away from Albus and Scorpius, “You’re just jealous because nobody likes you.”

That earned Teddy many laughs, even from James’ parents, and the eldest Potter child grumpily murmured something unintelligible and continued to wolf down his potatoes.  
Albus excused himself and made his way to the kitchen as soon as several conversations had started up around the table once more so it wouldn’t seem like he was taking flight, even though he was. Turning on the sink, he splashed some cold water onto his face to lessen the blush that was still clinging to his cheeks. He couldn’t even really be mad at James – it wasn’t his fault that he’d hit bull’s eye with that joke.

“You all right, mate?” 

He turned around to see Teddy leaning against the doorframe. Even though his father’s godchild could have changed his appearance in any way he liked, he mostly restricted using his metamorph magic to his hair colour; tonight, it was emerald green.

Albus nodded. “Yeah, sure. It’s just. I just needed a bit of a break. Too many people.”

Teddy nodded knowingly. “Understandable.” He took a few steps towards his younger cousin. “Listen, Al, don’t worry about what James says. He’s a giant idiot, we all know that. Don’t let him get to you. Also…” He hesitated for a moment, then continued. “Even if you liked the Malfoy boy, that’d be fine. Just so you know.” Teddy blushed a bit. “I just figured someone should tell you. So if you ever want to talk or something – I’m here.” He shrugged.

Al blushed as well, ruining his previous effort to cool down. “Thanks, Teddy.” He didn’t really have the means to express the extent of his gratitude, but he really meant it, so he smiled at his cousin to emphasise it.

Teddy nodded. “Let’s go back outside and annoy your brother. That’s much more fun than talking about your career to Aunt Hermione.”

The rest of the dinner was spent comfortably with Albus listening to Teddy’s and Jamie’s banter. He didn’t look too often at Scorpius, who was still trying his luck with Rose, but he couldn’t have helped him, anyway; his cousin liked him just as little as she did her unwanted suitor.

When the Weasley-Grangers left, it was already dark outside and they were all wearing jumpers to fend off the evening chill. Teddy and James left together with them, so it was only the remaining four Potters and Scorpius who were left at the table under the fruit trees. Albus’ father insisted that Lily should go to bed at once as midnight was approaching fast, and sent the remaining glasses with one flick of his wand off towards the kitchen. There was nothing left for the two teenage boys to do, so they said goodnight and took turns brushing their teeth and getting changed before they each climbed under their covers in Al’s room – Albus on his bed, Scorpius on the sofa.

His best friend was quiet, which was a rare incident, so Albus turned over to look at him even though he could only see his silhouette in the darkness of the room. “Everything all right, Scorp?”

It was silent for a moment. Then, Scorpius said, “I suppose so. It seems that Rose is still not interested in me, though.” His voice sounded disenchanted, and Albus could vividly imagine the expression on his face. Despite everything, he felt somewhat sorry for his friend – after all, he wanted him to be happy. “That’s too bad,” he thus said, hoping to sound sincere.

“Hmm,” said Scorpius. “I’ll just have to think of something else. Some sort of plan. It can’t be that difficult, can it?”

If Albus knew one thing, it was just how difficult feelings could be. Still, he said, “I suppose not”, trying to lift his best friend’s spirits, because that was what he always did, even if it hurt himself.

They stayed awake for a few more moments of Scorpius philosophising for the umpteenth time on how to win Rose over and Albus verbally agreeing with him while mentally shaking his head wildly. They abandoned mission when Albus finally couldn’t stop from continuously yawning, with Scorpius making him promise to have an open ear for any ideas he might come up with the following day. Albus promised – of course he did, because if there was one thing he was good at, it was being Scorpius Malfoy’s best friend.

…

The next day was much cooler and rainy, the change of weather brought on by a thunderstorm that had hit around 2 a.m. and woken Scorpius, who had spent a few minutes gazing at the night sky before going back to sleep. He would have never mentioned this to anyone who wasn’t Albus, but the youngest member of the Malfoy clan actually found physics to be extremely fascinating, and he had decided for himself that as soon as he had earned his own money, he would get some Muggle bank notes and buy himself some books on the topic.

Seeing as the next morning greeted them with a grey sky, neither of the boys thought it was necessary to actually get out of bed, so Albus got them some tea and toast, and they spent their morning reading in their respective beds; both grown-up Potters were at work, which was a luxury Scorpius wasn’t used to, since his dad seemed to be rich first and foremost and was always lurking about somewhere around the manor. But at the Potters’ house, there was no one there to bother them. Except-

“Al,” Lily exclaimed, not bothering to knock, storming into the room. “I can’t get Tyrannus to take my letter, you have to help meeee.” His little sister was stamping her foot, looking like a cliché fifteen-year-old teenage girl.

Albus looked up at his her, annoyance plain on his face. “You can’t just burst in like that, Lily. Ever heard of privacy?”

The ginger girl shrugged. “What could you two possibly need privacy for?”

For some reason that Scorpius didn’t quite catch, Albus blushed.

Lily tapped her foot, her impatience obvious as she threw her long hair back. “So, Al, about that owl? He’s being impossible again.”

“That’s because you’re never nice to him,” Albus sighed, not bothering to get up. He didn’t own an owl because he wasn’t much of a writer (for best-friend-correspondence, they always used Scorpius’ barred owl Cassiopeia), but he could handle them rather well, as Scorpius knew – his own owl always seemed happy when returning from the Potters’ house. Lily, on the other hand, could not. “Who are you writing to, anyway?”

Lily groaned. “That’s none of your business, Al. Now, will you help me?” She sounded impatient, and Scorpius deduced that there was likely a boy involved.

Albus groaned too, mocking the sound she’d made. “If I help you, will you leave us alone?”

“You won’t notice I exist.”

“Deal.”

Albus caught Scorpius’ eyes and rolled his own, murmured, “I’ll be right back,” and then left the room. His friend contemplated what had just happened. Lily was likely writing to a boy she was either seeing or wanted to be seeing. Should he write to Rose? The thought had never before occurred to him. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad one?

Albus returned a few minutes later, carrying a bottle of water and a plate of cookies. Without much decorum, he poured himself some water into his teacup and sat both the bottle and the cookies onto the floor before slumping down onto his bed. “I swear, that girl is driving me bonkers,” he said, and took a sip of water.

Scorpius looked down at the book he had been reading – a volume on accidental magical inventions Albus had given him for Christmas – and thought for a moment. “Albus, do you reckon I’m… Not interesting to Rose because I… Lack experience with girls?”

Albus, who was currently gulping down water, coughed, turned bright red and almost seemed to be suffocating, but only struggled for a few seconds before breathing normally again while Scorpius looked on. The second Potter child stared at his best friend. “Why would you think that?”

Scorpius’ pale cheeks were suddenly coloured a light shade of pink. “Well, I just thought because every bloke seems to think Lily is the most amazing girl in all of Hogwarts, it might have something to do with her… Experience with boys?”

Albus stared at Scorpius. “Are you calling my sister a slag? Because as much as she annoys me, that’s not nice, mate.”

“No, no, no, not at all!” Scorpius hurried to console his friend. “That’s not what I meant. I just think that maybe I’m not interesting because Rose might think that I wouldn’t know what I was doing if I ever… Kissed her.” The pink in his cheeks turned brighter.

His best friend looked at him, studying his face. “Maybe,” he said, “but honestly, Scorp, I don’t think that’s the issue. I mean, sure, experience can’t hurt, not that I’m an expert on girl things, but… Rose is just very focused on her career. She’s never been out with anyone. I don’t think you kissing someone will change that.” And then he grabbed his book and a cookie and resumed reading.

Scorpius’ head was too full to go back to reading, and since thinking demanded the thinker to be well-nourished, he also grabbed a cookie before leaning back and contemplating the downsides of being in love with a girl that didn’t date.

…

Scorpius had been quiet all afternoon, which was unusual, but not unheard of. As much as his best friend liked to discuss whatever was on his mind, and there was always something going on in Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy’s head, he was known to have phases of quiet reflection. Albus knew that, whenever Scorp would have finished thinking, he would undoubtedly share his results with him.

It was afternoon, and the rain was still drumming against the windows, making the room darker and giving the illusion that it was already later in the day than it actually was. The two young wizards were sitting on the couch that functioned as Scorpius’ bed, playing Wizard Chess, mugs of tea steaming on the floor; despite the fact that it was the end of July, the warm liquid was a treat on that rainy afternoon.

It was Scorpius’ turn, but he’d spent the last ten minutes staring at the board without even giving the slightest hint at actually thinking about his next move. It was getting eerie, and then chess pieces were getting bored, sitting down on their squares, chatting to their neighbours.

Albus cleared his throat.

Scorpius winced before looking up at him. “Huh?”

Albus couldn’t hide the half-smile that took over his face at the sweet, bewildered expression on his best friend’s face. “Earth to Scorpius! What’s going on in there?” He reached over to knock slightly against Scorp’s forehead, hating himself for relishing the silky feel of the pale blond hair against his knuckles.

Scorpius looked back at him, his blue-grey eyes quizzical. “Albus.”

“Yes?”

“You’re my best friend.”

Albus was confused by the turn this conversation was taking. “Yes? And you’re mine.”

Scorpius nodded, as if he had just received useful information. “And if I asked you to help me, you would.”

Now the brunet furrowed his brows in perfect confusion. “Of course I would. You know that.”

Once again, his best friend nodded, and Albus had the feeling that he shouldn’t have said anything.

Scorpius continued to nod and stare at him until he abruptly stopped. “I need you to practise kissing with me.”

Albus could only stare. Then, slowly, he opened his mouth. “I beg your pardon?”

Scorpius’ cheeks had caught a wisp of colour, but apart from that, he looked perfectly normal, as if he was suggesting a solution to their Potions homework. “It makes sense. Kissing is something I can hardly practise on my own. You are my best friend, and you are currently not dating anyone. Therefore, you are the perfect partner in this project!” He looked excited, an expression that Albus had learned to associate with their class receiving instructions to write an essay over the weekend. Because if there was one thing that got Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy excited, it was homework.  
And now, apparently, also kissing.

Albus did not even have the time to properly complete a mental assessment of exactly how disastrous it would be for the two of them to practice kissing together. He could not help his friend, whom he was in love with, rehearse his first kiss with Albus’ cousin, who would, Albus was willing to place high bets on that fact, never voluntarily kiss Scorpius, pretending he did not feel anything, pretending he did not want to do this always, forever, or that he did not want to do much more than just kiss him.

He just could not.

“Absolutely not,” Albus said, with as much determination as he could muster when confronted with Scorpius’ puppy-dog-homework-eyes. Which wasn’t a lot.

Scorpius seemed taken aback. “What? Why? What’s the problem?” He seemed honestly confused. “I brushed my teeth this morning, I promise!”

Albus shook his head slightly, trying not to chuckle despite the fact that the situation was anything but comical. “That’s not it,” he said, avoiding his best friend’s eyes. He didn’t know what to say, what reason to conjure up for not wanting to kiss his best friend, so he came up with a default answer. “I think it would be weird, you know, between us. I mean, we’re best mates and all, but kissing? Doesn’t that cross a line?” He did his best to look embarrassed, when actually, the proverbial devil on his shoulder was now trying to convince the other half of his mind that, come to think of it, it wouldn’t be so bad to kiss Scorpius. After all, hadn’t he dreamed of that for years? Wasn’t that what he had thought about while making out with the cute Ravenclaw seeker in the changing rooms last Quidditch season? What Scorpius’ lips might feel like? He tried to shake the thought.

His best friend shook his blond hair out of his eyes. “I don’t think so. I mean, it is only a training session, after all, nothing personal.” His eyes adopted a pleading expression. “Please, Albus. I’m almost seventeen, and I’ve never kissed anyone. I’ll be lost in the real world without that skill!”

Albus had to bite down a laugh. Scorpius’ way of phrasing issues was still one of his favourite things about his best friend.

Best friend. The most important person in his life. That’s what Scorpius was to him.  
He couldn’t disappoint him.

Albus took a deep breath. “Fine. But-“ - he raised a finger to stop Scorpius from interrupting him by enthusiastically thanking him – “I’m the teacher, and we’ll do this my way.”

Scorpius nodded vigorously. “Yes, sure, absolutely, no problem. Can we start now?”

That took Albus aback, but he didn’t want Scorpius to notice. “I think tonight after dinner would be better – you know, when we’ve excused ourselves, so we won’t be disturbed. I wouldn’t want Lily to barge in on us, you know?” Scorpius didn’t seem like he knew, but he nodded nonetheless.

So Albus spent the time until dinner, and dinner, and the time they spent in the living room until excusing themselves, and the time he spent in the bathroom getting ready for bed trying to mentally prepare himself for kissing his best friend/crush.

When he found himself at 10 pm on his bed in his pyjamas, Scorpius sitting opposite him, looking at him with that eager homework-expression on his face, Albus found that he wasn’t prepared. But there was no turning back now. He had promised to do this, and do it he would.

Even though it might be his downfall.

“All right, I am ready,” Scorpius said, and Albus wasn’t even surprised to see him clutching a small notebook and a quill, ready to write down the Essentials for Snogging Properly; with only his bedside light on, however, it might have been too dark for his best friend to see what he was writing. “You don’t need that now,” Al said, maybe a bit too harshly, because Scorpius frowned slightly, but shrugged and put notebook and quill away. “All right,” he said again. “Where do we start?”

Albus was feeling more and more helpless by the second. How was he going to instruct his best friend and secret crush of years in how to snog? He scratched his neck, trying to come up with an idea. “How about we just try it out so I can see what your strengths and weaknesses are?”

Scorpius smiled at him eagerly. “Oh yes, that sounds like a brilliant idea.” He furrowed his brows again. “But… Do you lean in or do I lean in? Because we can’t both, can we? I mean, our noses would probably collide, and then the mood would be ruined, wouldn’t it, I mean, not ours, since this is strictly practise, but in case I-“

Albus couldn’t stand his babbling anymore, it was making him even more nervous – he had to interrupt him. “Scorp?”

Scorpius stopped immediately. “Yes?”

The brunet shook his head. “Shut up.” He looked at his best friend, the light of the bedside lamp causing little reflections to dance in his hair as he moved, his eyes almost dark grey in the twilight of the room, so huge with anticipation. Albus could almost fool himself into thinking he was looking like that because he wanted him to kiss him, for his sake, not for reasons of practise.

And then, he leaned in and kissed Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.

It was not the wonderful moment Albus had pictured whenever he had, secretly, in his bed at night, fantasised about kissing his best friend, even though he felt butterflies flapping their tiny little wings inside his stomach. Scorpius was extremely stiff, not reacting at all, and so, Albus pulled back after only a few seconds.

Scorpius opened his eyes immediately, beaming at him. “How was I? If you had to rate me on the OWL scale, what grade would you give me?”

Albus thought about throwing himself out of the window, or facepalming, but he decided against going for either of those actions.

“Er,” he began, hesitatingly, “I suppose that wasn’t so bad. It’s just that… You need to be a bit more… Active, you know? As in… Kiss me back?” He felt his cheeks growing hot and hoped it wouldn’t be too visible in the barely-lit room. “Do you know what I mean?”

Scorpius was doing his eager nodding again, and Albus expected the worst. “Of course, of course, so-“ He leaned in and immediately bumped his head against Al’s. “Ouch – I suppose that was too much too quick, wasn’t it?” Scorpius asked, and now Al saw that he was blushing as well, and Merlin, this was just so embarrassing.

Albus took a deep breath. “Okay. We’ll try something else. Close your eyes.” The ever-obedient student immediately did as he was told. “Okay. And now imagine that you’re on a date with Rose – no, don’t interrupt me,” he added as Scorpius was beginning to open his eyes and hold up his finger, possibly in order to correct him or ask details about the imagined date. “Eyes closed. Right. So, you’re sitting next to her, and she looks beautiful in her… Scarlet jumper…” Albus bit his lip. Of all the things he had been forced to do in the last ten minutes, creating an imaginary date for the boy he loved and his crush was the most painful one. “And her eyes sparkle, and she smiles at you,” and now real-life Scorpius was smiling too, and it just about tore Al apart, so he continued, “And then she leans in and…”

Albus let his voice trail of as he once again made to press his lips against his best friend’s smiling mouth.

This time, it was different.

Albus was surprised to feel Scorpius respond to him immediately; his lips pressed back against his, possibly a bit too forcefully in his enthusiasm, but not in an unpleasant manner. The brunet began to move his lips against his best friend’s, and Scorpius, who always needed to analyse everything to death, seemed to catch on quickly, copying his actions. Albus couldn’t help himself, he put his right hand against Scorpius’ cheek to draw him closer, and he felt a hand sneak into his hair, playing with the unruly dark strands, and Al felt like purring.

It was not a passionate kiss, not one that would change the course of the world, but it was sweet and loving and true.

Except that it was neither loving nor true, not for Scorpius, because he was thinking about someone else. And Albus was caught up in a lie.

He broke away, taking a deep breath as he moved away from Scorpius, turning to face the other way and wiping his mouth. He couldn’t face his best friend just then.

Albus heard the other boy pant slightly behind him. “So… That was better, wasn’t it?” Scorpius asked, oblivious to his pain.

“It was,” Al agreed, and he got off the bed and moved past Scorpius to get some water from his nightstand and also have a good excuse to keep avoiding his gaze. “But I’m really tired. Would you mind if we continued this some other time?”

If Scorpius was confused, he didn’t show. “No, that is fine, I am quite content with the progress I made tonight.” Without hesitation, he got up as well, climbing into his own bed. “Do you mind if I take notes, or do you need me to turn off the lights immediately?” Scorpius had a weakness for his nightstand light as it was, essentially, a muggle item his grandpa Weasley had enchanted, and thus unheard of at Malfoy Manor.

“No, I’m fine,” Albus murmured, getting under his blanket. “Night, Scorp.”

“Good night,” his friend answered, and Al could already hear the quill scratching across the parchment. Scorpius would be analysing what he had and had not done well.

And not five feet away, Albus was clutching his pillow, asking himself why he had ever agreed to do this.

…

Scorpius had kept quiet about repeating their practice session for a few days; even though he was rarely credited for showing an abundance of emotional intelligence in public, he was sensitive enough to realise that the situation had been awkward for his best friend (though he wasn’t exactly sure why), and thus hadn’t suggested anything. Albus had been his usual self the next morning, and they had spent the day in comfortable laziness once again. Scorpius managed to steal a Young Witches’ Magazine from Lily’s room and read up on dating advice while Albus ignored his research and read some kind of medieval dragon adventure story. Scorpius himself considered reading anything that wasn’t educational a waste of time, but he never said so – Albus seemed engrossed, his green eyes dancing across page after page, his eyebrows drawn together, and Scorpius smiled as he glanced over at his best friend before returning to his own scientific endeavour of understanding teenage witches.

However, the kiss they had shared was still very prominent in Scorpius’ mind. It had been enjoyable, no doubt about that, and he was eager to try it again – this time, he would have to ask Albus to coach him as to how the tongue would be employed in a sophisticated manner. There were plenty of mentions of “sloppy kisses” and “washing-machine syndrome” in the magazine, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs. At the same time, he also wanted to avoid pushing his best friend to do something he didn’t want to do.

He decided to simply ask Albus about it two nights after their first try. They had already settled into their respective beds and were talking about how they would go to Diagon Alley with their parents some time soon to pick up all the new books and equipment they would need (their Hogwarts letters had arrived that morning) when Scorpius suddenly caught himself saying, “Albus, I was wondering when we could practice again?” All right, maybe this was not the subtlest way of doing it, but a direct approach might not be the worst idea.

It was quiet for a second in the dark room. Then, Albus answered, “What, now?”

Scorpius turned over in the direction of his voice, and he saw a streak of moonlight pooling across Al’s face. He actually hadn’t assumed Albus to suggest the present, but as they said, there was no time like it. “If it isn’t inconvenient for you? I mean, our teeth are brushed, and you’re not too tired, are you? Just for a few minutes.” What he didn’t say was that maybe it was easier for both of them to do this in the darkness.

Another short silence. Then- “Okay. Should I come to you or do you want to come to my bed?”

The thought of getting into Albus’ bed made him strangely uncomfortable. Also, do you want to come to my bed sounded… Bizarre. “You come over,” he whispered.

“Okay.” Scorpius could hear him more than see him leave his bed and take the three steps between their respective resting places. “Scoot over,” Al muttered as he slid under the cover. For a few moments, they just lay there, side by side, not saying anything. Then Scorpius felt Albus shifting towards him, and he turned as well to see that their noses were almost touching. Despite the fact that this was a training session for scientific purposes and the ultimate goal of enchanting Rose Granger-Weasley, the whole endeavour felt strangely intimate. But, as Scorpius realised, surprisingly comfortable.

Albus blinked a few times, and in the darkness, his eyes where the brightest element in his face. “So, any questions?”

Just like that, Scorpius was back on familiar ground. Asking questions was his second nature. “Yes, how do I incorporate the tongue properly?” he asked, glad that the slight blush he felt coming on would go unnoticed in the darkness.

Albus sounded smug when he answered, “Well, the rule is: less is more. Especially when you’re inexperienced. Tiny caresses are much better than pretending your tongue is the Giant Squid in the Black Lake. I’ll show you, and you follow my lead.” And for the second time in three days, Scorpius closed his eyes to be kissed by his best friend (for strictly scientific purposes).

Scorpius would have lied if he had said it didn’t feel nice to be kissed by Albus Severus Potter. While, due to his own lack of expertise, he could not judge his friend’s skill accurately, he could definitely say that it at least seemed as if Al knew exactly what he was doing. The pressure against his lips was firm, but not too hard, and Scorpius did his best to mirror the soft movements. When he felt Albus nibble on his lower lip, he let out an involuntary gasp (solely because the action was unexpected, of course), and his friend seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss and let his tongue just barely slip against Scorpius’. It was a strange to experience this unprecedented touch; slightly wetter than he would have anticipated, but pleasing in a new sort of way. However, it was over before Scorpius had any real chance to reflect on the correct adjectives to attribute to the experience.

Once again, he found himself face to face with Albus, and once again he was catching his breath as if he had just run a mile (yes, one mile. He wasn’t the sporty type.). Scorpius made a mental note to look into cardio exercise – he didn’t want to kiss Albus and end up dying of suffocation. Rose, that was. He didn’t want to kiss Rose and end up dying of suffocation.

“How was that?” Albus asked, and somehow, Scorpius couldn’t find his eyes in the dark, until he realised that they were still closed. He laughed breathlessly. “Am I not supposed to ask you that?” he replied, watching the way the moonlight caught in Albus’ eyelashes.  
His friend grinned, his teeth white in the darkness. “True. You’ve just felt what it’s supposed to feel like. So why don’t you try it?”

Scorpius had already figured out that too much force and abrupt movements could end in painful and awkward situations, so he took his time leaning into Albus, turning his head just so that their noses wouldn’t bump, and pressed his lips against his best friend’s. Albus seemed to be more passive this time, so Scorpius tried to recall all the details from their prior kiss, eager to figure out how to snog properly. He moved against Albus, putting a hand on his neck, and tried to pull him closer as he deepened the kiss. Soon, their tongues had found one another and then lost each other again, playing a game similar to hide and seek, and when Scorpius broke the kiss, he had only a second to take a deep breath before Albus pulled him back against him and they were kissing again.

It could have been minutes or hours, the time they spent practising, and Scorpius felt himself become more comfortable with the action, focusing less on the technicalities and more on the little signs that Albus gave about what he liked, trying to adjust to the quiet sounds his best friend made which suggested that one movement or another had been particularly enjoyable.

Finally, Albus broke away, and when Scorpius opened his eyes, his friend was already sitting on the edge of the bed. “I think that’s enough for tonight,” he whispered, not looking back as he got up and into his own bed. Suddenly, without Al there, Scorpius’ own bed seemed incredibly spacious and terribly empty. “All right,” he answered, drawing his blanket around himself. “Thanks again for teaching me.”

There was a brief silence. “No problem,” Albus said, very quietly; no wonder, he was probably extremely tired. “Night, Scorp.”

“Night, Al,” the blond boy answered, touching his lips, which were slightly swollen from all the snogging. Somehow, he liked the feeling. “Sleep tight.”

But Albus didn’t answer; Scorpius supposed he had already fallen asleep.

…

Without talking about it, it became their new thing.

At night, when the lights were out, Albus would climb into bed with Scorpius, and then they would snog, sometimes more than half an hour, until Albus thought he would burst if he didn’t stop, and then he got up under some pretence of being tired or having to go to the bathroom. During the day, Scorpius sometimes tried to talk about it, tried to ask his friend about how his performance had improved, but Albus avoided all talks. At night, when it was dark and he heard Scorp suppress a moan as he bit his lip, it was easy to forget that they only made out because Scorpius wanted to learn how to decently kiss Rose. Talking about it in the theoretical manner Scorpius loved so much would have ruined his illusion, so Albus simply, and stupidly, refused.

If he had been fair, he would have stopped it all, told Scorpius there wasn’t anything more he could teach him on day two, but he didn’t; he enjoyed it all way too much, and he hated himself for it.

What was more was that Albus had to actively fight against wanting to whisper things to Scorpius in between their kisses; how much he liked him, how beautiful he was, how good he felt. It was an urge he felt whenever he climbed under the covers next to his best friend, and it was a dangerous one.

After a few nights, finally, he found the strength to tell Scorpius that he had a headache and just wanted to sleep. If his friend was confused or hurt, he didn’t let it show, but simply wished him good night and slept. Albus, however, lay awake for a long time, like he had for the past few days.

The following day was an important one for the Potter family as it was the last day of July, Harry Potter’s birthday. No matter how much Albus might have disliked having a famous father, the 31st of July always brought tons of guests and a huge celebration to his family home, and there was nothing he could do about it. As he and Scorpius stumbled into the kitchen early that morning after being woken by the noise of his mother passive-aggressively cleaning the hallway, they both found themselves faced with a list of chores they would have to share with Lily.

“That’s not fair,” Albus protested quietly as he and Scorpius found themselves carrying garden furniture an hour later. “You shouldn’t have to work during your stay, I mean, you’re a guest here. Also, I hate that mum is making us do this when she could just as well wave her wand and be done with it.”

“I don’t mind,” Scorpius replied, smiling through the fact that he did, in fact, mind – only Mrs Potter was very scary when she was in such a determined mood; Albus understood that only too well. “Also, I’ve read somewhere that it improves a wizard’s character to now and then be reminded of what it is like to have no magic at your command.”

Albus laughed. “Tell that to Lily and she might just non-magically slap you.” His sister had been forced to help with the dinner plates for the buffet, and her curses could be heard all the way into the garden.

The two friends spent the day trying to hide from Al’s mother and then, when it was finally evening and they were showered and dressed in nice shirts, stealing as much food from the buffet as they could, eating it under the tree next to the swimming pond to avoid famous wizards, Al’s embarrassing family members and, above all, their teachers. Thankfully, the weather had improved again, and sitting on a blanket, the grass underneath it dry, they were perfectly comfortable in the warm evening air. Albus was at an age where he found it awkward to be forced to make small talk with his parents’ friends (his cousins were nowhere to be seen, so maybe they’d got out of the invitation), especially if they happened to be his own teachers, and was happy lounging in the grass with Scorpius, devouring all the sandwiches and éclairs that they felt they had rightfully earned. Also, the adults would possibly be fairly drunk soon, and there was nothing more embarrassing then watching one’s Herbology teacher and one’s dad hug in the teary way of intoxicated grownups. No thanks.

When Scorpius suggested he’d fetch them some more of the delicious chocolate cupcakes, Albus didn’t protest – after all, he was a teenage boy and a Quidditch player, and he needed his calories. What he didn’t expect was that apart from a plate with pudding, Scorpius was also carrying a bottle and two glasses. Albus was immediately suspicious.

“Scorpius. That’s Firewhiskey you’re carrying.”

Scorpius nodded. “I am capable of reading, you know.”

Albus furrowed his brows. “I know that, Scorp – you’d read your first spell book by the time you were five. What I don’t know and what I would like to know is what you’re doing with a bottle of Whiskey.”

His best friend blushed. “I thought this was the perfect opportunity for us to have our first experience with said beverage.”

Now Al’s brows went on a journey upwards, beneath his unruly fringe. “And what makes you think that?” he wondered, now honestly intrigued.

Scorpius sat down next to him, putting down the food he’d been carrying so he would be able to use his fingers to count off the arguments he had for getting drunk under the Potters’ backyard oak.

“Well, first and foremost, we have access to the liquor, obviously. Secondly, we are in a secure setting, so even if we fall asleep outside, we will still be on your family’s property. Thirdly, given the fact that I’ve spotted several empty bottles already, your parents will have enough of a headache tomorrow that they won’t mind if we also got one and are therefore quiet.” He hesitated for a moment, trying to determine whether he’d forgotten anything, and the creases on his forehead looked adorable, Al decided. “Oh, yes, and also, my dad’s not here.” Scorpius appeared to be quite content with his reasoning.

Albus glanced at him for a moment, then nodded. “I’ve got nothing to say against that.” And so he opened the bottle and poured both of them a glass full. He had an inkling that whiskey was actually drunk in smaller portions, but he wasn’t certain, and anyway, what was the difference – whether they poured more often or only once, the liquid would land inside their mouths either way.

Looking at the glass, Albus felt giddy with excitement. Yes, he was nervous, but the truth was that the two of them never did anything stupid between reading books and doing homework (and snogging, but that didn’t count), and he sort of wanted to be stupid once in a while. And while for Scorpius this seemed to be another one of his experiments on his way approaching adulthood, Albus just felt like he was up to a little mischief. 

“Cheers,” he said, touching his glass to Scorpius’, before taking his first sip of the fiery liquid.

It burned like fire all the way down, and Albus had to fight the urge to cough and spit, since Scorpius didn’t seem to have any problems drinking the alcohol. It finally settled warmly in his stomach, which was pleasant enough. Maybe he liked it, he thought, but he would have to try again. He took another sip.

Scorpius had his thinking-face on. “Why do you suppose people like this sort of drink?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck while sniffing the whiskey.

“Beats me.” Albus also studied his glass – the colour truly reminded one of fire. “Maybe it’s feeling drunk they enjoy?”

His best friend nodded as if that vague speculation had made perfect sense. “How much do you suppose do we need to drink to be drunk?” he asked, looking quizzically at the bottle, reading the etiquette.

Albus grinned. “Only one way to find out.”

As it turned out, the whole bottle was enough to make both of them absolutely pissed.

While they had taken it rather slowly in the beginning, they had soon fallen into their beloved pastime that was complaining about people they didn’t like (mostly James and snobbish Gryffindors), and whenever one of them said something funny, the other would toast to that. As the night progressed, even the silliest things began to seem funny, and so their drinking speed increased.

“And this year,” Albus slurred, “We’re gonna win the House Cup, I’m telling you – Ravenclaw can go…” And he hiccupped loudly.

Scorpius giggled. “I’ll drink to that!” he exclaimed, taking a swig directly out of the bottle – pouring themselves drinks was a difficult endeavour at this stage as they didn’t want to spill any of the liquor. They didn’t even seem to mind the burn anymore.

Al nodded vigorously. “I wanna see Ryan’s f-face when they lose,” he said darkly, looking into his empty glass, feeling philosophical as he did. Somehow, having fun and feeling stupidly reckless was something he associated with the boy he’d made out with last semester – but that seemed to deflate his current bright mood.

Scorpius hiccupped. “Who’s Ryan?” he asked, his face eager to gather new information even when he was drunk.

Albus only now remembered that he had actually never told his best friend about Ryan. “Just this dude I’ve been s-snogging,” he said. “I don’t want to think about him. Give me the bloody bottle.” And Scorpius obliged so Al could take another swig, and Scorpius followed his lead, showing his solidarity. Albus was thankful that for once his best friend seemed to be able to resist the urge to ask questions; he wouldn’t have been in the mood to answer them.

However, Albus and Scorpius did not fall into the category of depressed drunks. At some point, they were laughing so hysterically that they drew the attention of Harry Potter, who came over to see if they were all right. Having consumed the one, two or more glasses of Firewhiskey himself, he only smiled at his son, said something about how happy he was that they were having so much fun, and returned to the terrace.

“Close call,” Albus commented, which made Scorpius giggle. “Maybe we should sneak inside through the front door?”

Scorpius took a whole ten seconds to pull himself to his feet, leaning heavily against the tree trunk, clutching the almost-empty bottle. “I don’t suppose I can be very sneaky at this stage,” he giggled, and there was something about the carefree laughter he had uttered over the course of the whole evening that made Al’s heart beat faster.

“We can do it,” he determined. “We’re Slytherins, after all – sneaking is in our blood.” Of course, they needed to drink to that as well.

It took them an embarrassingly long time to make their way around the house and into Al’s room, but they managed to make it past the guests queuing at the Potters’ bathrooms practically unseen and finally tumbled into the bedroom, with Albus closing the door behind them.

“That was AMAZING,” Scorpius whooped, going for a high five but missing epically. Albus started to laugh hysterically at that and, since he was still carrying the almost empty bottle, drank to that. Since both their heads were spinning, they decided to sit down, and since they were still passing the bottle back and forth, they sat down next to one another on Al’s bed.

Scorpius suddenly leaned in, and Albus’ heart was about to stop working when his friend pulled a leaf out of his hair and handed it to him. “Here you are, fairy prince,” the blond boy giggled. Al rolled his eyes. “You’re drunk, Scorp.”

Scorpius put his hands to his mouth in mock surprise. “You don’t say!” he exclaimed, displaying an uncharacteristic but notable talent for acting. “But I like fairy prince. It’ll be your new nickname!”

Albus shook his head. “If one of us is a fairy prince, it’s you with all your fair hair and stormy eyes or whatever.” He felt himself blush and took another gulp from the whiskey bottle.

Scorpius laughed wholeheartedly. “I have stormy eyes? Where did you get that from, your sister’s magazines?” 

Albus turned away. He hadn’t meant to say anything, and he was embarrassed by Scorpius’ laughter. He should just keep his mouth shut. He took another swig, and now the bottle was empty.

“Hey.” He felt Scorpius’ fingers ghost over his cheek, turning his face so he could look into his friend’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to laugh at you.”

Albus looked up at him, and their eyes met. The urge to kiss his best friend was almost too much to bear, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

Scorpius seemed to be searching for words. “Your eyes… They’re like the first new leaf growing after winter.” The statement was only a whisper, so low that Albus thought he might have imagined it. And before he could roll his eyes or laugh or even breathe, Scorpius was kissing him.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but the other times they had been kissing, they had been shy, restrained, careful. There was nothing careful about the way Scorpius pressed his lips against Albus’, their teeth colliding, their noses crushing each other. Albus was kissing him back with the same fierceness, and soon, he found himself under Scorpius, his arms on his back, pulling his best friend closer and yet not close enough. He let his hands slide under the hem of Scorpius’ shirt, and the feeling of his fingers sliding over the blond’s soft skin might have been the best he’d ever experienced. He bit Scorpius’ lip and his best friend groaned into his mouth.

It doesn’t mean anything, Albus told himself. We are both drunk and we have done this before without it meaning anything. He wanted to save himself the disappointment. On the other hand, he could also make the most of the occasion.

“I want to take your shirt off if that’s okay,” Albus gasped in between their kisses, and Scorpius, who always seemed to be so self-conscious about his body, replied only by saying, “And I yours.”

So their shirts landed in a small pile of cloth on the floor, staying there, ignored, while Albus kissed Scorpius’ neck and let his fingers ghost over his collarbone. The whiskey was clouding his head, because in a sober state, he would never have whispered, “You’re beautiful.” But he was drunk, and so he did.

Scorpius giggled. “You’re drunk. And crazy. Drunk and crazy,” he answered, his hand grasping Albus’ chin before pulling him back up to capture his lips in another heated kiss.

Albus couldn’t have said how long they kept going, how many hickeys they sucked onto each other’s skin, how often their lips met each other. But at some point, the alcohol and their exhaustion must have got the better of them, because one second, Albus was peppering Scorpius’ back with kisses, and the next, without knowing why or even if they had stopped kissing, he felt himself drifting off.

…

Scorpius knew even before he opened his eyes that something was wrong with his head. He knew all symptoms of a concussion, but somehow that seemed inappropriate when considering that his stomach was hurting as well. Or was there a correlation between feeling sick and having concussed one’s head? He couldn’t quite recall at the moment.

He opened his eyes and immediately closed them again due to the fact that Albus’ room seemed to be unusually well lit that morning. What was wrong with his sensory organs?  
And then Scorpius realised – he was hung-over. While he had heard of the phenomenon, he had never experienced it before, and he was abuzz with the explorer’s euphoria of having discovered something new. In his excitement, he re-opened his eyes and instantly regretted wanting to investigate what it was like to be drunk and hung-over. He was feeling quite awful.

Blinking into the morning light, he noticed that he was not in his own bed, but that his left arm was trapped under his best friend, whose head was resting against Scorpius’ own shoulder. Another glance told him that they were both shirtless, and his eyes turned wide as he discovered that Albus’ neck and chest was sprinkled with hickeys; it didn’t take a lot of deduction to combine that his own body was likely similarly decorated.

Scorpius furrowed his brow and then stopped because it didn’t improve his headache. So they had kissed again – quite fervently, apparently. He could not remember having asked Albus for another lesson, and it wouldn’t have made sense to do so – they had been drinking, joking, laughing. Had he kissed Albus without officially stating that it was only for practice reasons? Now that he thought harder about it, he did remember some silly banter about Albus being a fairy prince and then kissing him. What had got into him?!

He looked over at his best friend, his face calm and defenceless in its deep slumber, his hair wild as always, his skin slightly bronzed from spending afternoons in the sun. While he looked less like a fairy prince now and more like a teenage boy, Scorpius had to admit that there was something beautiful about him. Of course, he had always known that Albus was attractive – theoretically, that was, with his green eyes and his dark hair and relatively trained physique – but this new aspect, this beauty he had just discovered in Albus’ sleeping features, was surprising to Scorpius. He couldn’t seem to stop looking at his best friend, his fingers itching to trace the fine lines of his face. Scorpius remembered that they were practically cuddling, and the thought was strangely exciting.

But no. He would have shaken his head if it hadn’t hurt so much. He had spent half his life in love with Rose – well technically, not half of it, but the toddling years were hardly to be taken into account here – and now, all of a sudden, after one drunk snogging session with his best friend, his feelings couldn’t be shifting. It was Rose’s features he wanted to trace with his fingers – how could Albus fall into the same category all of a sudden? Albus was his best friend, his only friend, and he would never have made out with Scorpius if he hadn’t bothered him about it in the first place. The blond wizard recalled how reluctant Albus had been to agree to his scheme, and the fact that Al had had a fling with a Ravenclaw boy didn’t mean he was ever going to fall for Scorpius. Not that Scorpius wanted that. Because he was in love with Rose. Because that was what it had always been like. Wasn’t it?

And yes, seeing the traces his lips had left on Albus’ body sent shivers down his spine.

Maybe said shivers were what woke Albus only a moment later; the groan he uttered mirrored the way Scorpius’ body felt perfectly. His eyelids fluttered, and then green eyes met grey-blue ones.

Albus appeared to be just as confused as Scorpius had been. He took in their close proximity, the marks on Scorpius’ body, the fact that they were not wearing a hell of a lot of apparel. If he thought that it was peculiar, he didn’t say so, and merely tried to sit up before thinking better of it, settling back onto Scorpius’ arm. “My head is killing me,” Albus groaned, throwing his hands overs his eyes, perfect drama queen pose. Scorpius couldn’t suppress the tiny smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

He was also relieved that he didn’t have to talk about what had happened between them on an empty stomach. “Mine too,” he said, because it was true, and it was the easiest truth in the room. “Apparently water helps. And a fatty breakfast.”

Albus glanced up at him through his fingers, and Scorpius couldn’t help but notice that he could have easily kissed his forehead from that perspective. “Why do you even know that?”

Scorpius just grinned, blushing slightly, and Albus seemed to be fighting a smile, but couldn’t. “Right,” he said, finally sitting up. “I’ll get us some water, and then – bacon and eggs, maybe?” The house seemed to be still quiet, despite the fact that it was a weekday; the Potters had probably taken the day off.

The blond wizard smiled. “That sounds great. But Al?” Albus was currently making his way to the door, slowly, carefully, and not entirely straight. He stopped in his tracks. “Yeah?” His eyes seemed to be drilling into Scorpius’.

“You might want to put a shirt on. Or, er, a turtleneck jumper.” Scorpius blushed again.

Albus stared for a few more seconds before saying, “Right. Good idea.” And then he walked over to his closet, drawing a green jumper from it, and throwing one towards the bed for Scorpius to wear as well.

And that was the last they talked about it, if one could even call it a talk.

…

Albus watched the hickeys on Scorpius’ neck fade over the next days. Thankfully, the weather had taken a turn for the worse again, so it wasn’t strange for them to wear their Slytherin scarves – well, it was plenty strange, but claiming that they only wanted to annoy Lily by showing their house pride was a reason silly enough for his parents to believe it.

Something was different between the two of them. It was just like Albus had always feared; the borders between friendship and love had begun to blur, and now they were stuck in an awkward limbo of feelings. Or he was, anyway. But Scorpius was different as well. Surely he must have noticed that their last snogging session had been different, that feelings had been involved. It had to be; Albus was certain he wasn’t imagining the lingering looks his friend gave him, but he never met his eye, always averting his gaze when Albus caught him.

Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, it was time for Scorpius to leave shortly afterwards. Their arrangement for Albus to come visit the Malfoys a week later was still standing, and he still wanted to go – Scorpius was his favourite person in the world, even if it was complicated at the moment – but he thought that a few days to himself might help him clear his head.

They were in Albus’ room. Scorpius was looking through his bag once again – its only content were books and several items of clothing – and Albus was sitting on his bed, watching him pack. The blond boy was muttering to himself as he went through the contents of his luggage, as he liked to do when he checked something, and Al was regarding him with the sort of silly admiration he had always reserved for his crush. Then Scorpius nodded and turned to face him. “I’m done,” he said, looking up at his best friend, smiling.

“Right,” Albus said. Then, on a moment’s spur, he added, “It’s too bad you’re leaving.”

Scorpius looked down – was he blushing?! – and nodded. “I know. But someone needs to prepare the peacocks at the Manor for your visit.” His smile as he looked up at his best friend again seemed almost… Flirtatious. 

Albus felt himself blush as well. “That’s neat,” he answered, feeling like an absolute idiot. And before he could make an even bigger fool of himself, he accompanied Scorpius to the kitchen, where their mothers were sitting, having a cup of tea. Despite their best efforts, both their dads had been busy once more, and the women had arranged that they would definitely, all four of them, have time for a nice and comfortable afternoon tea when the Potters would pick up Albus at the Manor in two weeks’ time (“Honestly, this is ridiculous, it’s as if the men are worried that they’ll get along fine,” Scorpius’ mother laughed, and Al’s joined in.)

Mrs Malfoy – Astoria, Albus had to remind himself – smiled at the two boys. “Are you quite ready to be separated for a long, torturous week without one another?” she joked, glancing at the two of them.

Albus knew he was blushing. He simply had to be.

Scorpius cleared his throat. “Well, I’m behind on my summer reading, anyway, so it is vital that I catch up on it.” He paused shortly, then he glanced over at his best friend. “And then I’m happy to welcome you at my home, of course.”

The Potter boy nodded to himself. That was the friend he knew. His priorities were Homework and Albus. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

He nodded again, feeling easier now. “And I need to do some flying. Slytherin won’t win this year if their Beater isn’t in shape.” He pondered. “I mean, strictly speaking, they still might. But I don’t want to be the worst player on the pitch.”

Both women laughed at that. Astoria rose to her feet and Ginny mirrored her movements. “It was so nice to see you,” she said, and Albus happily recognised that his mother’s smile was genuine. 

“Likewise,” Mrs Malfoy declared as she kissed the other woman’s cheek. “I will see you on Saturday in two weeks. With your husband. I know I’ll be locking mine in the broom closet so he won’t be out on business.” She rolled her eyes playfully, and Albus could somehow understand why Draco Malfoy, who was slightly scary, would have done anything for this charming woman.

Scorpius stepped towards the fireplace and waited for his mother to leave. “Thank you again, Mrs Potter,” he said to Ginny before following his mother into the flames. “I’ll write,” he promised, his face dancing with the green light of the flames before he, too, vanished.

It took Albus a few moments to realise that they hadn’t hugged goodbye. They always hugged goodbye. Scorpius was shy about it, but he was a hugger.

The knowledge of Scorpius having broken their routine due to the fact that he felt uncomfortable with him because of their drunken snog made Albus’ heart heavy. “I’m going to strip Scorp’s bed,” he told his mother, as it was the perfect reason to go to his room.

Of course, he already knew that he was going to strip his own bed and sleep in Scorpius’ tonight.

…

Scorpius was sitting at one of the desks in his study (because, obviously, one desk was not enough). He had been staring at the exact same piece of parchment for the better part of a half hour (twenty-three minutes, to be precise). A single sentence was written on it.

I apologise for not hugging you goodbye.

He really wanted to tell his friend that he was sorry. It was very likely that Albus wasn’t half as sorry as he was. Maybe it was for the best. Albus had been quite distant during the last days of his stay. Maybe he was even glad that Scorpius had gone home. However, it was a fact that he had not suggested cancelling his visit to Malfoy Manor, and as it was Monday, he only had five more days to do so. But would he do it?

It was true that Albus hadn’t written to him in two days, which was unusual for them, but then again, Scorpius had announced that he would write, and Cassiopeia was currently asleep on a perch in the corner, so his best friend had had no real possibility to contact him due to the fact that the owl he usually used was at home at the Manor.

Scorpius sighed. When had it become so difficult to talk to Albus? He was the one person he was always able to talk to. His best friend. His soul mate, if one did in fact believe in that nonsense.

…his soul mate?

Scorpius was deeply shocked by his own thoughts. But then he remembered the way it had felt to wake up to Albus sleeping on his shoulder, the expression on his sleeping face so vulnerable, so handsome. Scorpius was a man of facts, and it was a fact that there was something there now when he was thinking about Albus that had not been there before. But it was a feeling, and Scorpius was not particularly fond of feelings due to their unscientific nature.

The fact that he was in love with Rose had been easily deducible because he’d always behaved like a massive fool around her. This didn’t happen with Albus – with him, he always felt at ease, and even if other people were present that made him feel uncomfortable or inferior, his best friend made it better. Also, nowadays, he found him to be attractive, which could have hinted at Scorp’s fancying him.

Also, Scorpius really liked kissing Albus.

That was not to be taken as a hint per se, as kissing was, objectively speaking, a quite pleasant activity. However, he had sensed something during their last kiss that had somehow felt like… More.

‘More’ wasn’t a scientifically measurable entity, either. Scorpius sighed again in frustration.

In the end, he decided to just send that sentence. If Albus thought he was peculiar – well, he couldn’t really argue with that, anyway.

…

On Monday night, Albus received a short note from Scorpius, only stating that he was sorry about not hugging him. To Albus, however, this note meant the world. He was weirdly happy to have his best friend acknowledge the fact that he had omitted their usual embrace, and even better, read that he was sorry about it.

They might be able to save their friendship and go back to normal, after all.

…

On Tuesday morning, Scorpius was having breakfast with his parents, just like they always did when he was at home; his mother was reading the newspaper, his father was brooding over his schedule for the day, and he was reading a book he had leaned against the teapot while chewing… Something. He didn’t even realise what it really was. The book was too gripping.

“Oh, the post,” Mr Malfoy suddenly remarked. “It’s all right, darling, I’ll get it.” Scorpius barely heard what they talked about and needed to be gently shaken by his mother for him to look at her. “What?” he asked, glancing at her and away from the book. “This is really important, mother, I need to get a head start in Potions if I’m-“

“That’s magnificent, honey,” she said, grinning just a bit too widely for him to feel as if she were taking him seriously. “But you’ve got mail.” She extended her hand holding a folded piece of paper across the table.

Scorpius looked at her hand, then at his mother’s face. “Oh. Thank you, mother.” He took the note and was vaguely aware of the fact that his heart was beating fast. Maybe he shouldn’t be drinking so much tea.

The note was from Albus, just like he had anticipated. Unfolding it, he read: I’m sorry too. Are we okay? I miss you.

Scorpius stared at the note, feeling relieved. Albus was not cross with him, he even missed him! But what did he even mean by that? It had only been three days since they had seen each other last. Was he being ironic? And were they okay? What should he answer? Yes, I’m okay, despite the fact that I’m experiencing an existential crisis because my life-long infatuation with Rose Weasley-Granger might not have been precisely life-long because of her rather enchanting cousin, a.k.a. yourself?

“Scorpius! Are you even listening to me?”

The blond boy looked up from his letter. “Pardon?”

“Scorpius, what – Oh, for the love of Merlin, never mind.” His father seemed exasperated, throwing his hands into the air in a theatrical gesture before returning to his scrambled eggs, murmuring something about banning books from the family table for all eternity.

Astoria leaned in. “Are you quite all right, honey?” she asked in a low voice, brushing a strand of golden blond hair behind her ear.

Her son did a weird sort of nod that ended up with him turning his head in a circle. “I suppose so – yes. Yes, I’m quite all right, thank you, mother. I mean, why wouldn’t I be? All right, that is. You know me, I’m always just – all right.” 

Scorpius saw his parents exchange a glance over the table that told him that they were not buying his extremely believable statement about his wellbeing.

Astoria turned back to him. “Is it Albus? Are you fighting?” Scorpius almost laughed at that, but then he decided that an uncalled-for outburst of humour would not get him out of this uncomfortable situation of parental scrutiny. “Of a sort. But we are talking. It’ll be all right when he comes here on Saturday.”

Astoria nodded knowingly. “I knew something was up when you didn’t hug him goodbye. You always hug Albus.”

For Merlin’s sake, what was it with people talking about the way he and his best friend greeted each other?! How did everyone know that hugging was their thing?!

Scorpius decided to play the teenager and mumble something unintelligible while chewing his – crumpet. So it was a crumpet he had been eating. Interesting.

…

Albus waited for a whole day for an answer from Scorpius, and he was worried for all those twenty-four hours that he’d done the wrong thing by admitting that he missed his friend. It had felt right at that moment, but now that he was thinking more thoroughly about it, he wanted to slap himself. He’d never said anything like that before, and combined with their awkward silences, Scorpius surely already knew that he had feelings for him. Was that why he wasn’t replying?

…

Scorpius was back at his favourite desk once more, a quill in his hand. But instead of writing a letter to his best friend, assuring him that they were, in fact, okay, he was making a list.

More specifically, he was creating a list of reasons to like both Rose and Albus.

Even though Scorpius was not quite ready to admit to himself that he liked Albus much more than he ever had Rose (or at least in a way that made him warm and fuzzy inside, not in a way that made him want to crawl into a hole and die), he was not going to make a decision that important by merely going with his gut. And so, in trying to adopt scientific procedure to his feelings, he had decided to make a list.

Glancing at the piece of parchment, he had to admit things were looking bad for Rose; her only two pros were that she was both pretty and smart, both of which also applied to Albus (even though he had used the word “attractive” for the boy instead). Albus also had the advantages of being hilarious, his best friend, loyal, and mean to people who were mean to Scorpius. Also, they had already kissed, even if it hadn’t meant anything, really, at least not to Albus. They were furthermore in the same house, and he could actually talk to Albus instead of just stuttering whenever Rose was there. Additionally, Albus seemed to like spending time with him as well, hence them being best friends.

Scorpius had very little romantic experience, but the points listed on the piece of parchment in front of him seemed to be quite a lot of good reasons to be in attracted to someone.

However, this was only the theory. He needed to find out if he was really having feelings for Albus. And there was really only one way to find out – he most definitely needed to kiss him again.

…

Albus was packing his bag with his mother lingering in the doorway, watching him and making him nervous.

“Do you have enough jumpers?” she asked for the third time. “The Manor can get quite chilly in the evening, I assume.”

Albus turned around to face her, clutching one of his green jumpers. “Yes, just like I had enough jumpers five minutes ago,” he answered, his tone distinctly annoyed. “Mum, what are you really trying to ask me?”

Ginny blushed faintly. “I was just thinking… Are you and Scorpius okay? You didn’t hug goodbye when he left. You always do that.” It was a real struggle for him not to roll his eyes. “I thought maybe you didn’t want to go, but also didn’t want to say.”

Albus’ gaze dropped to his pillow (the same one Scorpius had slept on during his stay), under which Scorpius’ last note was hidden. I’m okay if you’re okay. You’re my best friend, Albus. So yes, they were fine.

Oh, who was he kidding? Things were awkward as hell. Scorpius usually wrote him letters longer than any Potions essays the had ever been assigned; mostly about random things he’d read in books or how his father was awkwardly trying to bond with him or how new baby peacocks had hatched in the stable behind the Manor. The fact that they were exchanging short little notes about how they were sorry about not hugging was just plain weird.

But that was no reason not to visit Scorpius. They were best friends; they had always pulled through anything they’d been confronted with. And they would also master this little weirdness. This would be their last year at Hogwarts – they would spend it like they had spent all of their years at Hogwarts: being best friends.

Albus forced himself to smile at his mother. “That’s very thoughtful of you, mum, but I’m excited to go.” 

…

Scorpius breezed through his room again, checking if everything was in order. He had never been allowed to have Albus stay for longer than two days, so now that his friend was going to sleep in his room for a whole week, he wanted everything to be perfect. His father had suggested for Albus to sleep in one of the guest rooms, but Astoria had reminded him of how fun it was to stay in the dormitories at Hogwarts and how they shouldn’t ruin that experience for the two boys at the Manor. Draco Malfoy had seemed confused, possibly unable to remember what his wife called “fun banter” happening in the Slytherin dormitories during his time at Hogwarts, but, as always, was unable to resist his wife’s enthusiastic smile.

Thanks to Astoria, therefore, the huge cream-coloured sofa in Scorpius’ room now featured an emerald comforter and several cushions, a perfectly comfortable bed for Albus to sleep on. Also, plenty of sweets were stocked in Scorpius’ nightstand for them to snack on during long nights of never-ending reading and chatting; Al had always had to sneak to the kitchen to steal cookies, and it was just easier this way.

Turning around in a circle, he smiled happily to himself. Yes, that would do. His room was the perfect retreat for two best friends during a rainy summer week. He hadn’t made any plans concerning kissing yet, but he assumed he would simply wait and see.

“Scorpius! Look who’s here!” Astoria’s voice sounded from the drawing room downstairs. Scorpius glanced at his watch. He hadn’t even realised it was two o’clock already - Albus must be here! He hurried out of his room, down the hallway and the grand staircase, past rows of portraits of blond Malfoy men and the last one of a smiling little family, the one his mother had insisted upon featuring wife and child as well as the current house owner (“I don’t care whether your father will hear about this, Draco, this is the twenty-first century, for Merlin’s sake!”). As a little boy, Scorpius had often found his family home to be eerie, but that had decreased with the time he had spent in an old castle in Scotland as well as with his mother’s (and also his father’s) new-found love for changing the décor to make it more of their own and less something they had inherited and merely guarded for a few decades before passing it on again. The drawing room was a good example of that; while the old, heavy furniture, artfully carved from dark wood, was still essential to the room, so were the bright curtains and cushions Astoria had picked out a few years ago. 

Scorpius now walked briskly into said room, finding his mother on the sofa next to Mrs Potter, and Albus looking out of the window at the rain, which was falling heavily, his back turned to his best friend.

“I apologise for being late,” the blond boy said, shaking Ginny’s hand. He had taken only one step towards Albus when he turned around and their eyes met.

Scorpius immediately diagnosed himself with a heart attack: sweaty palms, hammering heart – surely this was an emergency?!

But no, it was only Albus. Albus, whom he had looked at a thousand times (no, surely more often!) over the years. But also, it wasn’t Albus. It was the most beautiful boy in the world. And Scorpius couldn’t even chastise himself for being sappy, even though he really wanted to.

Worried that the others might have noticed his hesitation, he quickly closed the space between them with a few brisk strides and threw his arms around his best friend/ alleged crush, and even though he was awkward and nervous, he immediately relaxed when Albus put his arms around him as well. This was familiar. This was Albus, his best friend, despite the fact that his heart started beating even faster when he felt Al’s fingers brush slightly against his back. “Hey”, his best friend whispered into his ear, only for him to hear. He pulled back, and once again those green eyes were staring into his blue-grey ones. They were dancing with happiness at their reunion; Scorpius could only resume that his looked exactly the same.

…

Albus was delighted to be once again hugged by his best friend/ crush (as well as slightly embarrassed by how relieved their mothers looked). He had been so worried that their one drunken kiss (well, technically, there had been many drunken kisses that night) would manage to ruin their entire friendship, but Scorpius seemed… Well, not exactly normal, but happy and giddy that they could finally spend a week together at the Manor, like they had planned when they had been mere first-years. Albus said quick goodbyes to his mother, promising her to be good and that she wouldn’t hear any complains about him when she and dad would come visit the week after (not that anybody, at this point, believed that it was actually happening), and then they were off to Scorpius’ room. The blond boy was eager to show Albus all the pictures and books he had taken and bought during his trip to South America, and Al was happy to listen, admire, and gasp while Scorp was talking. It felt perfect and normal at the same time, the blond wizard chatting like a waterfall, the dark-haired one listening, his looks a bit too lingering as he regarded his best friend. As normal as it had ever been between them ever since Albus had discovered his crush on Scorpius, that was.

There was a moment when Albus thought that maybe, just maybe, Scorpius was looking at his lips for a moment as he fell silent during his description of a magical market he had visited in Ecuador. Yes, unmistakably, those beautiful eyes were staring at his lips.  
Albus didn’t know what to do. “And that was impressive?” he prompted, sure that he wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation of kissing Scorpius if he continued to look like that.

Scorpius winced and met his eyes once more. “Wh- oh yes, very much so.” And then he continued to talk as if nothing had happened.

The rain continued to pour down, the light inside as gloomy as outside since they hadn’t lit any candles or wands. Scorpius glanced outside. “It’s too bad,” he said, his brows furrowed, “I really wanted to show you our baby peacocks. They are adorable.” Albus could only think how Scorpius was extremely adorable as well, but he snapped out of it. “Why don’t you, then?” he asked instead.

Scorpius shrugged. “The stable is behind the house, so we’d have to go outside.” They both looked to the window again.

Albus shrugged. “I don’t mind, we can run,” he said. He was surprised that Scorpius hadn’t suggested using magic for staying dry, and he definitely wouldn’t either if it meant he got to see wet strands of hair sticking to his best friend’s face. And anyway, seeing the stable and the little birds sounded like it would be worth a sprint through the rain. Even though they weren’t magical creatures, Scorpius had always loved taking care of them, and Albus wanted to see everything that was important to his best friend.

Said best friend nodded. “Or, you know, magically dry our clothes afterwards. I mean, we can’t. Mum can. If she’s around. And I assume there is a change of clothes to be found in that bag of yours as well. If not, there is in my wardrobe.” He smiled and got up. “Let’s go!”

Albus followed him down the stairs, down a hallway and to the backdoor, which opened onto a sweeping terrace that happened to be flooded at the moment. The rain looked less severe from here. Albus met Scorpius’ eye. “I’d race you, but you’d lose and I don’t know where to go.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Follow me.”

Albus gave him a small head start before following his best friend across the immaculate lawn and down a pebble-covered path towards a small wooden building. It took them maybe a minute to get to the stable, but they still managed to get their jumpers quite wet. Albus was mesmerised for a second by the way Scorpius shook his damp hair out of his eyes as he opened the door and led his friend inside.

The stable was astonishingly big and well-lit, and featured low perches for the birds to sit on, plenty of straw and food as well as a small door resembling a cat flap the peacocks could use to come and go as they pleased. In this weather, however, all five grown-up peacocks were resting inside, lazily watching the six little birds that were rushing around excitedly at the arrival of humans.

Scorpius pulled the door closed behind them and carefully sat down in the straw before gesturing his friend to do the same. “They’re used to having me around, it’s okay,” he said as Albus hesitated, but then they were both sitting there, shoulder to shoulder, watching the baby birds hurry around them. They truly were adorable.

Albus was reminded of little swans when watching the little peacocks; they were also rather plain when compared to their magnificent parents, but still quite cute. 

“When I was little,” Scorpius began to say quietly, stroking one of the baby birds with his index finger, “I always came here when little ones had hatched because I thought…” He stopped and chuckled. “I thought they were like me. They had parents that drew everyone’s eyes because they were so majestic, but the babies were tiny and awkward and not really all that remarkable.” He paused and blushed. “When in doubt, I still come here. I still feel like one of them sometimes, I don’t know if that’ll ever end. I don’t know if I want it to.”

They were silent, and Albus felt like he had just met an entirely new side of his best friend. He put a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder and squeezed it.

“They’re great”, he said, because it was true. These animals were important to his best friend, they were his one un-bookish refuge, and he felt grateful for being welcomed into this safe space. He felt Scorpius nod next to him, and then they just sat there, in the fading afternoon light, the smell of straw and animals around them, the sound of rain drumming against the roof. He couldn’t have said just how much time they spent sitting there, silently comfortable in one another’s company, their shoulders still touching. It could have been minutes or hours.

At some point, Scorpius glanced up at the little skylight integrated into the roof. “I think the rain is getting heavier,” he remarked before meeting his friend’s gaze. “Are you ready to go inside?”

Actually, Albus wasn’t. He was so comfortable in this little room, with only the birds and his favourite person in the world for company. But he nodded – he wasn’t too keen on getting completely drenched. So they got up, brushed off stray straw, and made sure none of the baby birds escaped while they slipped outside.

The rain had upgraded while they had been visiting the peacocks and now deserved to be called a downpour. They ran for a couple of seconds, but Albus felt that it was useless, seeing that he was already drenched. He started to laugh, slowing down before stopping entirely. He just stood there, in the middle of the lawn, letting the rather cold water wash over him. He caught Scorpius’ eye, who was a few metres in front of him and who had also stopped. He regarded Albus with a fierceness that almost took his breath away. And then he was laughing as well, his blond hair sticking to his face, his clothes soaked, but he didn’t seem to mind. Albus was ridiculously pleased with this silly situation.

It took them only a few moments of laughing and spinning around in the rain to get seriously cold, and so they resumed their jog towards the main house, crashing through the door and almost tripping on the wooden floor in their soaked sneakers.

Albus pulled them off, followed by his jeans and jumper.

Scorpius stared at him. “Er… What are you doing?” He looked uncomfortable with Albus undressing in his home’s hallways, which was somehow understandable.

“I just thought your mum wouldn’t be too pleased if we soaked the whole house.” He had finished undressing, wearing only his pants now, his clothes a wet heap on the floor. Scorpius’ face looked flushed as he continued to stare at him. Again, Albus thought that something was different about the way he behaved today.

“Oh, what the hell.” Scorpius had apparently come to the conclusion that Albus was right, and Al wasn’t even ashamed to admit that yes, he watched his friend take off his clothes until he, too, was only in his underpants.

Wet and cold as they were, they both shivered. Scorpius gestured down the hallway. “R-race you,” he just managed before bounding down the hallway, Albus on his heels.

They managed to hurry upstairs without being seen, and once they were in Scorpius’ room, they both leaned against the door, breathing heavily. Standing there in their underpants, the humour of the situation was not lost on Albus he started to giggle again.  
Scorpius looked over at him. His wet hair was plastered to his face, and his shoulders glistened with raindrops. The fierce look was back in his eyes, and once more, it made Albus stop what he was doing, insecure.

His brain refused to produce even one constructive thought when Scorpius leaned in to kiss him. It just told him to lean in as well.

Cold and wet as he was, Albus felt like Scorpius’ lips were lighting a fire inside his stomach to warm him. He shivered, and it wasn’t entirely because of the cold. He grabbed the blond’s elbows, pulling him closer, closer, and soon his naked chest was pressed against Scorpius’. He could feel a hand dragging through his wet hair, the cool droplets falling onto the back of his neck causing him to shiver once more.

Scorpius pulled back to look at him. “Maybe we should get under the covers?” he whispered, his face flushed, his wet fringe still sticking to his forehead. Albus couldn’t resist the temptation of reaching up and brushing it away. “Okay,” he agreed, feeling anxious as well as excited. This was unfamiliar territory to him – kissing in daylight, soberly, was something they had never done before.

But Merlin knew he wanted to.

Reluctantly, he followed Scorpius to his huge four-poster bed, which was entirely clad in emerald sheets and curtains, and slipped under the covers next to his best friend. Scorpius lay down and looked up at him as he sat on the mattress, uncertain of what to do.

After a moment, the blond boy sat up, and seconds later, they were kissing again, and Scorpius pulled Albus down with him, and it was so warm and comfortable under the heavy blankets, and Scorpius’ skin was so soft, and – 

Albus pulled away. As much as he wanted to continue what they had been doing, as much as he wanted to take it even further – he couldn’t. This was exactly the kind of foolish behaviour he had always forbidden himself to indulge in because he didn’t want to risk his friendship with Scorpius. They couldn’t keep doing this – make out, not talk about it, dancing around one another with ominous messages.

He looked up at the green velvet over their heads, embroidered with a silver M. The Malfoy family surely was big on adding nametags onto everything they owned – not even their beds were safe.

“What’s wrong, Al?” Scorpius voice was a little rougher and more breathless than usual, and Albus would have lied to say he didn’t like the sound of that. Still, he couldn’t look at his best friend.

“You’re not drunk, Scorpius, are you?”

He felt the blond shift next to him. “What? No! Why would you think that? I have not consumed a single alcoholic beverage since… Your father’s birthday.” The hesitation in his analytic tone was minimal, but it was there.

Albus took a deep breath. “So why are you kissing me?”

Scorpius was quiet for a moment. Then he said, in a low voice, “Because I wanted to see if I still liked it as much as I did when I was drunk.”

Albus had been expecting an “I don’t know”, so he was more than surprised by the answer he got. He turned to stare at friend, who was on his stomach, leaning onto his elbows, his hands clenched together. “Come again?”

Scorpius’ face was as red as Albus had ever seen it to be. “I think you heard me the first time,” he whispered, and he looked so embarrassed that Albus almost felt bad for him. Almost.

The brunet boy sat up. “So kissing me was an experiment? Now that we’ve done it sober, drunk, in daylight, at night, in a bed and outside, what do you think is the best way to kiss? Rose will be so lucky to have someone with so much experience.” Merlin, he hadn’t wanted to sound so incredibly bitter, but he couldn’t help it. Looking down at the back of Scorpius’ neck, he wanted to slap him almost as much as he wanted to kiss him.

Scorpius turned his head to look at his friend, his pale grey-blue eyes wide with shock. “What do you mean?”

Albus groaned in frustration. “Stop playing games with me, my heart isn’t going to take it much longer! You kiss me senseless, you don’t hug me goodbye, you send me strange owls, and now you kiss me senseless again! What do you want from me, Scorpius? And don’t tell me you’re in bed with me right now, thinking of Rose, or I swear, I will slap that silly face of yours.”

Scorpius continued to study his face with wide eyes. “Your heart?” he finally asked, his voice still low and shy. 

Albus took a deep breath. It was time to throw his hands up in abandon and caution to the wind.

“Yes, my heart, Scorp. Because I’m in love with you and I have been for years, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, so I didn’t say anything. And I only agreed to your kissing scheme because I wanted you to be happy, and nothing has ever been more painful in my life than kissing the boy I fancy while knowing that he’s thinking of someone else. And I include that one time a stray Bludger broke my ribs. Because that’s got nothing on having your heart torn to pieces by knowing the person you love does not love you back.”

Albus was aware of the fact that he had been raising his voice until he was basically shouting about his feelings. He was breathing heavily, and his face was scarlet, but he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Finally, it was all out in the open. Finally, he didn’t have to pretend anymore. And if Scorpius couldn’t live with it – well, he simply would have to, staying in the same dorm and all.

The blond boy was still staring at him, grey-blue eyes looking into green ones. Scorpius’ eyes seemed to be shimmering slightly. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a very long time. Then, he finally said, “I never thought of Rose when you kissed me, Al.”

Once again, Scorpius didn’t meet his expectations in this conversation. Albus shook his head slightly. “You weren’t? Not even that time at the party?” He didn’t dare to hope, but he couldn’t help the way his heart started beating faster.

Scorpius scrambled to his knees so his eyes were level with Al’s. “No. Don’t you think I know that a female torso looks different than a male one?”

Despite everything, this brought a small smile to Albus’ lips. “Fair enough.” He was positively shaking with anticipation now.

They were quiet for a few moments. Albus knew that Scorpius had to let everything he had just thrown at him sink in, so he sat there, playing with the wet tendrils that were his hair, trying to bear the silence. It was almost impossible, listening to his friend’s breathing and his own heart beating like a jungle drum.

Finally, Scorpius cleared his throat. “I made a list, you know.”

Albus once again shook his head in bewilderment at the way this afternoon was progressing. “A list?”

A tiny smile appeared on Scorp’s lips. “Judging whether you or Rose would make the better girlfriend, you know. Or boyfriend.”

The brunet raised his eyebrows. “And who wins?” he asked, trying to sound casual, but the fact that Scorpius had even considered being his boyfriend prior to their current conversation was positively mind-blowing and not at all calming his drumming heart.

Scorpius extended his hand towards him, and, as Albus held still, brushed a strand of hair behind his left ear. “You ask a lot of silly questions for someone so smart.”

And as their mouths met in another kiss, Al could feel the smile on both of their lips.

…

Scorpius had prepared for sleepovers with his best friend. Instead, he was now having sleepovers with his boyfriend. This made everything easier – for one, boyfriends didn’t need two beds, only one.

Furthermore, they were never bored, because they were constantly snogging. Even when they would spend hours reading (on which Scorpius insisted because he needed to prepare for his NEWTs, obviously), they would be touching in some way: Scorpius’ head would rest in Albus’ lap, or they would link their feet, or hold hands. Scorpius couldn’t believe he hadn’t realised years ago that Albus had hands that were simply made to hold, a beautiful chest to rest his head on, the most kissable lips on the entire planet. But now that he had, he wasn’t going to waste time not appreciating it.

Of course, they pretended to be the same as always when anyone else was around. Family meals were excruciating because never was Scorpius’ urge to run his thumb across the back of Al’s hand so burning than when his father was sitting opposite him, cutting his meat and insisting they stayed at the table until everyone had finished before being excused.

Scorpius knew that they needed to tell their parents, but right now, everything was so exciting and new with Albus that he wanted to have him, this whole relationship, to himself. Additionally, it was uncertain what his father would think of the fact that his son was dating a boy, or even “worse” – a Potter.

So he put off talking about it, and apparently, Albus didn’t need to talk about it, either, for he never once mentioned the fact that they would possibly have to come out to their two sets of parents that Saturday at tea. His only hope was that, as usual, the event wouldn’t happen.

As they were cuddled up in Scorpius’ huge mahogany bed on Friday night, listening to the rain falling outside, he felt the need to bring it up.

“Albus?” he murmured against his boyfriend’s hair, as he was currently acting as the big spoon.

“Hmm?” Al muttered, sounding sleepy. “What’s up, Scorp?” 

“Do you think our parents will really have tea together tomorrow?”

He could feel Albus chuckling. “Not bloody likely, is it? We have very busy parents. My dad will be stuck at the ministry, or your dad will have some urgent business to attend to, or one of mum’s colleagues will be hit by a stray Bludger and she will have to cover for them. Something will come up, I’m sure.” He nudged a bit closer, pressing his back against Scorpius’ chest, which was surprisingly exciting.

Scorpius bit his lip. “But just suppose it’ll happen-“

“It won’t.”

“-but suppose it does… Should we…” Scorpius hesitated. “Should we tell them? About us?”

Albus was quiet for a moment. “I suppose. I mean, we would have to tell them sooner or later, so why not do it now? I guess it’s one of those secrets that will become increasingly harder to tell once you’ve put it off. Do you know what I mean?”

Scorpius nodded, temporarily not realising that Albus depended on acoustic input, which caused his boyfriend to turn around in his arms. He took a second to blink the hair out of his eyes, temporarily blinded, looking utterly adorable.

“Are you bothered by that?” Albus asked, his voice gentle. “Because you don’t need to be. Your parents love you, they won’t be disappointed by the fact that you’ve found someone you want to be with.” He sounded so confident that Scorpius almost believed him. But only almost.

He shrugged as best as he could while lying down. “You know my father. He’s… Not the easiest person to live with. I know, it’s not his fault, he was brought up to be this way, and he’s lived through a war. I’m just worried that he won’t take too well to the news. You know, these old pureblood families tend to be terribly conservative.” Scorpius thought back to the tantrum his grandfather had thrown when his mother had abandoned the tradition of the patriarchal portrait gallery. He had hidden in his study for the duration of their duel (and yes, there had been wands involved, he was sorry to admit).

Albus raised his hand to stroke Scorpius’ cheek. “It’ll be all right, Scorp. I promise. And if not, you can always stay with us until your dad has cooled off. But I’m sure your mum won’t mind, and the way I know your dad, he will do whatever your mum will like best.” He giggled, and Scorpius couldn’t help the smile spreading on his face, consisting of a mixture of infatuation with Albus and hope concerning his previous statements.

“So, bottom line, it won’t happen anyway, but if it does, which it won’t, it’ll be okay. I’ll be right there beside you. Okay?” He searched Scorpius’ face with those huge green eyes, and the blond boy couldn’t help but feel calmed by so much sincerity and kindness.

“Okay”, he whispered back.

At that, Albus let out a huge yawn. “Great, because I’m extremely tired and I would love to cuddle up against that shoulder of yours.” Another monumental yawn followed, and it caused Scorpius to yawn as well.

But again, he had to smile. “Be my guest,” he said, putting his arm around Albus as he settled against Scorpius for the last time before he would have to leave the following day – a thought they both tried to banish from their mind.

…

Albus and Scorpius spent the following morning reading in the drawing room, watching in a fascinated manner how it was being prepared for another afternoon tea that would never happen. Lunch came and went, and Albus went upstairs to pack his things, with Scorpius to assist (officially) and distract (unofficially yet factually) him. They left his suitcase upstairs – someone who was officially allowed to use magic would transport it downstairs soon enough – and returned to the drawing room. The table was set for six, and there was steaming tea and scones and clotted cream and jam and sandwiches and cake and chocolate-dipped strawberries and a very tense-looking Mr Malfoy. Albus checked his watch – it was ten minutes to four, and they had heard nothing about his parents being indisposed yet. He grew anxious – would they really, finally, have to sit through two hours with both sets of parents, eat sweets, drink tea, and tell them that they were in a relationship? He hadn’t thought he would have to – it would never have occurred to him that both his mother and his father would have a Saturday afternoon off and be willing to spend it with the Malfoys. His mother was easy-going, and he knew she liked Scorpius’ mum just fine, but the fathers were always a bit of a problem. Albus hoped it would all be okay – if, indeed, both his parents would show up.

The two boys took their spots on the sofa, exchanging anxious glances as Mr Malfoy read the paper at the table. Mrs Malfoy dashed in and out of the room, fetching more napkins, righting a cup, magically adjusting the light in the room. All the while, she asked her husband questions about whether he thought they had enough sweets, enough tea, whether he liked the napkins she had bought in London, whether he didn’t think that wearing a Slytherin tie was just a tiny bit childish. It was a spectacle to behold for Albus until he noticed that Scorpius’ hands were shaking. Without thinking too much about it, he reached for his boyfriend’s hand, and when the blond boy glanced up at him, he smiled. Scorpius returned the smile and let go of his hand, seemingly calmed.

At four o’clock sharp, just as Mr Malfoy started sighing and looking at the grandfather clock in a meaningful manner, the fire in the fireplace turned a distinct shade of emerald, and seconds later, Harry and Ginny Potter appeared in the Malfoys’ drawing room. Both of them wore nicer-than-usual clothes; Albus suspected that his mum had forced his dad to dress up a bit, and so he was wearing a very elegant jacket and shirt, matching his wife’s smart dress. His hair, like Al’s, was, however, beyond help, as always.

Ginny took only a few seconds to adjust. “Astoria!” she called out, extending her arms to her son’s best friend’s mother and kissing her on the cheek. “I can’t believe we’ve actually managed to have the four of us together in one room at last!” She laughed her warm laugh, the one Albus associated with happy childhood memories.

Astoria seemed equally happy, a huge, very un-Malfoy-esque grin on her face. “I know, it’s a miracle!” She moved on to greet Harry, while Ginny hugged her son fiercely. “Hello, sweetheart, how are you doing?” she asked, making his wild hair even wilder.

“I’m fine, mum, don’t strangle me,” Albus managed to choke out, patting his mother’s back, but she just laughed and hugged Scorpius, thankfully less ferociously. He greeted his dad, who had the nice habit of only putting one arm around him so he could actually breathe, and then Astoria urged them all to have a seat, have a cup of tea, have ten slices of apple tart, have twenty scones.

“So, Scorpius,” Albus’ mum said as she helped herself to a chocolate-covered strawberry, “Are you ready to get rid of Albus? He must be exhausting to have around 24/7!” She grinned and winked at Scorpius, who, unfortunately, blushed viciously and started to stutter immediately. Albus saved the situation by interjecting, “I’m so glad that’s how you think about your own child, mum!” That caused a laugh, and he used the opportunity to nudge Scorpius with his toes. A shared glance between the two of them revealed that the blond boy was beyond nervous.

Albus watched his boyfriend be silent as his mother poured tea, as their fathers talked about Quidditch, as Ginny asked Astoria for the recipe of the apple tart. He would have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t nervous. He was. Very much so. And by the looks of it, Scorpius was close to fainting. He needed to do something now.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, far too loudly, over the two conversations that were presently happening. Four pairs of parent-ly eyes immediately turned to him, two of them slightly annoyed, two of them more or less concerned. So, there it was. He had their attention. What now? Albus really should have made a plan before simply interrupting them. What a very Gryffindor thing to do.

“Yes, Albus? What is it?” his mother asked, a slight frown on her face. Yes, Albus, what was it?

He took a deep breath. “So, the thing is that, Scorpius here – you know Scorpius – and I, we… I mean, during those years… You see, the thing is-“

“We are in love.”

Albus joined the two sets of parents in staring at Scorpius. Had he really just said that, out loud, just like that?

Astoria was the first one to break the heavy silence in the room. “You’re in love? With each other?”

Albus knew it was his turn to confirm Scorpius’ brave statement. “Yes. Scorpius and I are in love with each other.”

Ginny took turns looking at both of them. “Does that mean that you are in a relationship?” None of the other parents added anything – and Albus refused to look at either of their dads, keeping his eyes on his mum, who seemed reasonably surprised, but not mad in any way. “It does,” he said, nodding in affirmation.

To his immense surprise, Mrs Malfoy clapped her hands. “Well, isn’t this wonderful!” she exclaimed, jumping off her chair to hug son and Albus. “I always thought the two of you would make a wonderful couple! Congratulations!”

Five people stared at her. Draco Malfoy’s face had confusion written all over it. “You always thought that Albus Potter and our son would make a wonderful couple?” He didn’t sound furious, merely utterly bewildered.

Astoria nodded, her bangs falling into her eyes. “The two of them are just so sweet with their tender hugs and their reading together. Albus, welcome to the family!” And he was once again pulled into a tight hug by his boyfriend’s mother. Stealing a quick glance at Scorpius, he saw that he was moved to tears, a tiny smile on his lips. He held out his hand to him, not having to hide anymore, and squeezed it. Scorpius squeezed back.

Albus turned to look at his father, who looked a bit lost. “Well, I didn’t see it coming, but, to be honest, I’m probably not the most perceptive person.” 

This caused his wife to burst out laughing. “I love how it took you more than three decades to realise that when everyone around you knew since your first year at Hogwarts!” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and proceeded to rise and embrace her son. “I’m happy for you, honey, Scorpius is a lovely person,” she said as she let him go again. Albus merely nodded – he was kind of lost for words, but he was happy that his parents took their coming out so well.

“I guess we are kind of in-laws now!” Astoria exclaimed, pulling Ginny into a hug, and the two women giggled happily. “Now we have to make these afternoon teas a regular occasion!” Albus’ mother agreed. Both of their husbands stared at them.

“You know, Scorpius,” Mr Malfoy drawled, “I really don’t mind if you like boys, but honestly – did it have to be a Potter?” Albus saw that his dad took that as an occasion to punch Draco lightly on the shoulder.

Scorpius looked at their intertwined fingers, and then up at Albus’ flushed face. A wide grin spread his lips as he looked over at his dad rubbing his shoulder. “Yes, father,” he said, “It really did have to be a Potter.”

…

Albus and Scorpius stared at the Hogwarts Express. They were about to board it for the seventh and last time in their life. Another year at Hogwarts lay before them – a year of studying, of staying up all night memorising spells and potions, of preparing for exams, of playing Quidditch, of strolling around Hogsmeade.

However, this year would be slightly different.

Sure, they had spent all their year together, watching each other’s back. But now, they were a couple. The years of pining were over. Now they were together, and nothing could stop them from having the best year at school they’d ever had.

Albus looked over at Scorpius. “Are you ready?”

Scorpius looked back at him, and despite the huge turmoil of students saying goodbye to their parents and cats meowing and owls hooting and children protesting their parents’ appeasements that they would get to go to Hogwarts soon enough, it felt as if the two of them were alone in the world, as if they were safe in the eye of the storm.

Scorpius nodded. “I’m ready.”

He took Albus’ hand, and together, they boarded the train, on their way to start their future together.


End file.
